


pebble for a heart; storm for a brain

by watergator



Series: tiny human [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Language, References to Depression, implications of a failed pregnancy/miscarriage, parent!phan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 12:26:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14105349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: when a small tragedy happens, dan and phil take a weekend away to a town with a beach. dan has feelings, phil cant help them.





	pebble for a heart; storm for a brain

Rocks and pebbles are crushed and kicked from under his shoe as he walks along the stony beach. The sound of gentle waves crashing against the shore, the smell of salt in the water; churning and frothing. The laughter of seagulls, mocking the children that play on the beach that shriek with hearty laughs.  
  
St Ives is a lovely place, Dan thinks. It’s the middle of May and they’re finally getting the spring weather that had been gone for so long due to the never-ending winter they had just endured. A good opportunity for the two of them to escape for a weekend between uploads and meetings and life in general.

His heart is broken, Dan knows. It’s so cold and hurt and so, _so_ sore. He wishes for it to fixed and better but he knows all to well that time only heals pain. He just needs to wait.  
Phil emerges from behind him with two ice cream cones, dripping down his hand and through his fingers, with a small trying smile.  
  
“Here.” Phil hands Dan a cone, and Dan takes it, his gaze still out to sea.  
  
He tries to mimic the ocean waves with his lungs, but they move too fast and too slow and it’s too hard to keep up with the constant change they present to him.  
  
Dan let’s the ice cream melt between his fingers and dribble mercilessly down his wrist until Phil sighs and uses a tissue to clean his hands. Dan can only offer a small smile of thanks before returning his mind to the sea.  
  
They walk for a while; Phil finishes his ice cream, crunching the cone so loudly that it grates against Dan, and with just two small pathetic licks, Dan throws his own into the trash along with the now soggy tissue.  
They walk in silence, aside from the rest of this part of the world; loud sounds of waves, wind and people.  
  
Phil is still hungry, so they slip into a small fish and chip café. Dan doesn’t really love fish that much, but he doesn’t totally resent the idea of some warm, salty chips right now.  
The café has some quiet music playing; not quite loud enough for Dan to listen and hear what exactly is playing. There’s the sound of pots and pans crashing around behind the door at the back.  
  
An older woman takes their order, she has a nice, thick Cornish accent that she talks with a smile, and Phil orders a large chips between them and two teas.  
  
By the time their food arrives, Dan suddenly isn’t hungry. He lets Phil pick at the food in the bowl in the middle of the table as Dan mindlessly stirs his tea.  
  
“You know, Doctor Roberts said we could try again pretty soon.” Phil speaks in a normal tone.  
  
It’s a tone he’d use when they’re deciding on dinner or what to watch on tv that evening. And it pisses Dan off greatly.  
  
“You don’t think I fucking know that, Phil?” He spits with a bitter tone, not looking up from his tea to see Phil flinch slightly.  
  
Dan continues to stir his tea, the sound of the small spoon hitting the china cup, over and over and over again, harder and harder and harder.  
  
“Dan, stop that, you’ll break it.” Phil says gently, reaching over the table to take Dan’s hands in his, but Dan pulls back, hard, the tea spilling upwards over the rim of the mug like ocean waves, coming down on Dan’s skin.  
  
He doesn’t even care, the stinging burn on his hand, he doesn’t even care.  
  
“Dan, when we tried this, we knew it wasn’t always guaranteed to work. We knew of the chances.” Phil says, taking a chip, pulling it apart and then throwing it back down.  
  
Dan says nothing, eyes trained on the tea that’s now created a tiny puddle beside his mug. Breathing in, out, in, out.  
  
He thinks that maybe he’s calming down, that maybe this ocean storm inside him has passed into nothing but foam and bubbles under his skin, but then Phil speaks with that small, sad voice,  
  
“Dan, baby, this wasn’t your fault.”  
  
He slams his fists against the table, rocking it, crushing the small teacup under his hand, the shattering of china sounding throughout the café, the spoon flying off, clattering against the floor, hot tea splashing up against his hands and arms.  
  
Phil stands up quickly, so quickly that his chair falls backwards as he moves towards Dan. He grabs his arms upwards to see tiny little shards of china splintering his skin, little clots of blood mixing in with the tea on the table.  
  
“Fucks sake, Dan.” Phil almost yells, grabbing a handful of napkins, dabbing the tea and blood mixture.  
  
By now, the waitress from earlier has reappeared with concern, and almost jumps at the small amount of damage she sees.  
Dan sits, motionless and emotionless, tears brewing up behind his eyes as Phil calmly tells the woman that he has shards of china stuck in his hands.  
She kindly asks if he needs to see a hospital, but with a quick inspection, Phil reassures her with a nervous laugh and just asks her for some tweezers. She jogs off, as fast as she can go, as Phil sits with Dan.  
  
“What the fuck, Dan? What the fuck was that?” Phil says with disbelief, almost disappointment, but Dan shrugs, blinking as tears slip from his eyes.  
  
The waitress returns, handing Phil the tweezers, gingerly looking at Dan before backing away when she see’s a small amount of blood.  
  
Slowly, Phil manages to remove the pieces of mug from Dan’s hand, no real damage done, and uses a napkin to sweep up all the broken parts off the table, apologizing to the woman ten times over as she cleans up nervously around them.  
  
Phil pays the bill, moments later when the mess is gone, and leaves, Dan trailing a far few steps behind him. Dan still has the bundle of napkins stuck to his hand, wet, where he was burnt. It doesn’t hurt, he thinks its just the shock.  
  
He follows Phil back to the hotel they’re staying at, finally catching up to him when they reach their room door.  
He watches idly as Phil walks to the bed and sits down slowly. Dan’s about to say something, when Phil lets out a cry.  
  
It stuns him at first, and he’s not sure what to say, so instead he moves over to the bed and sits beside him. He’s not sure what to expect; maybe Phil will move away or move closer. But instead Phil doesn’t move. Instead he hangs his head in his hands and cries.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Dan finally says, his throat feels scratchy and sore and he’s not sure why. It feels like he’s been screaming, when all the screaming he’s been doing is inside his head.  
  
“Fuck.” Phil mutters as he sits up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Fuck.” He speaks again.  
  
They sit there, silence thick between them, listening to the faint faraway sound of the beach below their window, soaking it in for a moment together.  
  
“I can’t fucking do this, Dan.” Phil finally says, breaking the silence with a heavy voice.  
  
Dan swallows what feels like sand in his throat, “You can’t do what? Us?” he whimpers with a heavy fear and Phil looks up, eyes red,  
  
“No, Dan, _this_ , I can’t do _this_.” He gestures to himself and Dan’s sad looking hand and then lets his own arms flop down by his sides.  
  
“Oh.” Dan says in a quiet voice, nodding, although he’s not really sure what he’s nodding about.  
  
“We can’t fight this like, Dan.” Phil says, defeated, dropping his head back in his hands and all Dan can do is sit there and watch him.  
  
“I don’t wanna fight.” Dan adds and Phil just gives a short chuckle, muffled by the palms of his hands.  
  
“I don’t wanna fight with you, Phil, I don’t.” Dan says again, tears slipping down his cheeks as he looks at Phil with pleading eyes,  
  
“I don’t wanna fight, I don’t wanna argue with you, I want to love you and be happy and start a family-“ he cuts himself short with a hiccup and a sob, cracking through his chest like thunder on the ocean.  
  
“I want to start a family with you, Phil, that’s all.” He cries softly.  
  
Phil stays silent at first, and Dan is sure he’s going to be asked to leave but instead, Phil gives a long, dragged out sigh, shaking his head.  
  
“I just wanted the IVF to work, Phil, I just wanted – I just want it all with you.” Dan sobs, hunching over, pressing his good hand to his eyes to stop the flow of tears.  
  
“And I thought it was going to work, I thought it would, but then…” he trails off with more tears streaming down his face.  
He almost flinches when he feels a steady hand on his back. Instead he just leans in closer to him.  
  
“Fuck, Dan, me too.” he whispers.  
  
Dan sniffs, sitting up and cradling his stupid hand still, too weary to meet Phil’s eyes just yet, Phil rubbing small circles on his back.  
  
“I’d do that ten times over, Dan. Heck, I’d do it a hundred more if it meant us being happy.” Phil says with a watery voice, and Dan doesn’t have to look up to know he’s crying again.  
  
“I would too.” Dan agrees with a small sob, leaning into Phil, who now has his arms wrapped around his middle, pulling him closer.  
  
“I want this to work so bad.” Phil murmurs quietly over Dan’s sniffing.  
  
“We have to make it work, we have to.” Dan tells him, pulling himself away to finally meet Phil’s eyes. They’re the colour of a grey storm. They’re so tired. So very tired.  
  
“We are, we can try again with the surrogate; we can use your stuff of mine, it won’t matter.” Phil nods, and Dan nods in agreement.  
  
“And if that doesn’t work we’ll try again. And if that doesn’t work, then – well, then we’ll adopt.” Phil takes a hand and places it on Dan’s cheek, swiping across stray tears with a gentle thumb.  
  
“Yeah.” Dan croaks, a ghost of a smile on his lips.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Phil says sadly, pulling Dan in for another, tighter hug.  
  
“Me too.”

And that night, they fall asleep with the dream of a new future together; the sound of children running around their feet and kisses pressed sweetly against each other lips.  
They fall asleep as the ocean outside their window crashes against rocks and pebbles, growing and shrinking. A storm maybe brewing a few hundred miles from here.  
  
But for now, the storm that had started here in this small town, seems to have passed, with wet cheeks, bitten lips and heavy hearts.  
And for now, all is calm.

**Author's Note:**

> hi so i hope you enjoyed this - if you did please leave a kudos or leave a comment and let me know what you thought!!
> 
> come say hi on tumblr !! @watergator
> 
> thanks for reading !!
> 
> (also st ives is a real place and its so beautiful wow)


End file.
